


Cirrus

by deluxekyluxtrashcan (rhoen)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Hux-centric, Introspection, M/M, There is only Hux, Who has no friends, i have no idea what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/deluxekyluxtrashcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not the kind of person who is born to have friends, or has time to waste on such trivial attachments.</p><p>Still, it's only human to long for it. Sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cirrus

**Author's Note:**

> *orang-outang shrug*
> 
> It's 8.30 am. The only thing that makes sense is that I don't. I'm talking about people like they're clouds. I've not done the analogy justice, but yeah... that's where the title comes from. Cirrus clouds are the really high up wispy ones that are spread out and on their own most of the the time.
> 
> No one beta'd this. There's no point. Don't translate or repost. Bleh.

Hux sees the way people move around him: the groups that form and disintegrate over time as bonds strengthen and weaken, and as people come and go. He sees it around him in the way one officer might shyly smile to another, thinking their longing glances have gone unnoticed by everyone else, or in how another might tense their shoulders defensively. He sees the tight-knit packs of 'troopers bunched together sharing a joke, and the clear lines denoting the different factions which are rarely crossed. It's like watching an atmosphere, clouds forming and shifting across the surface of a planet in ways that can be understood by anyone who cares to look closely and study the meaning behind the swirls and swathes of moisture suspended between soil and sky.

It's something Hux sees and understands in principal, but has never been a part of. Those under his command are nothing but professional when on duty or around him, but when their shifts are over, or the atmosphere more relaxed, they share smiles and casual conversations Hux is never invited to partake in. There are meetings outwith working hours, and small groups that habitually congregate around tables in the canteen, sharing stories and company as they eat.

Hux eats alone, nearly always unapproached. He is set aside from - and above - everyone else around him. He knows that he is peerless, and that he wouldn't be where he was today if he fraternised with the lower ranks and wasted his time with trivial social nonsense, but sometimes he looks up at a laughing group, or after two people walking far closer than is needed, and wishes for something like that too. It's a strange, deep, and irrevocably human longing, and a cold sadness threatens to grip him if he doesn't turn away, focusing back on whatever task is currently at hand.

Sometimes polite offers are extended to him, but Hux always turns them down: they're only ever asked because it's expected of them. No one truly wishes for him to join them at their table, or to attend whatever informal gathering is being arranged for when the day cycle ends. Hux understands this, and whenever he's approached with an invitation that's socially required but not truly desired, he declines.

While there is solace to be found in the silence and the opportunity to work uninterrupted, there is loneliness there too. It's an old, familiar ache, and the cold grasp of it is one of the few constant companions Hux has ever had. He is by now resigned to its lingering presence, and has learnt how to shift and position himself to try and lessen its impact when it threatens to unsettle him. He has to remind himself that he didn't set out to be liked or popular on a petty social level, but to be revered and respected as a leader. He has achieved that. The only thing he needs is the opportunity to further his command.

As a child, Hux would often stand and stare up at the skies. No stranger to space, he simply considered how it would feel when all the Galaxy bowed to his command. He paid little attention to the clouds passing across the sky, only focused on what was beyond them.

Sometimes Hux feels like that small boy again, only this time he's not looking up at all he might have, but looking down at what he will never know. He moves, untouched by those around him, in a circle of his own, aware of the fact that he's made of the same substance, and yet is so completely different. He focuses on all that needs to be done, trying to tell himself that it doesn't matter. He doesn’t need what a small, unsilenceable part of him yearns for, no matter how cold and fierce the longing may become as he watches two people who are clearly friends receding down the corridor, conversing amiably and enjoying the company of another human being.

Hux wasn’t born to enjoy trivialities such as that.

He turns back to his work.

**Author's Note:**

> Now imagine Kylo, and Hux trying to reach out, struggling to connect to someone. But he can't. It just slips through his fingers. The closest chance he had to finding a friend, and it's completely intangible.
> 
> /passes out


End file.
